


On This One Day of Days

by Antheas_Blackberry



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale's Bookshop (Good Omens), Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Don't copy to another site, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Soft Aziraphale (Good Omens), Soft Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Soft Crowley (Good Omens), South Downs Cottage (Good Omens), crowley - Freeform, ineffable holiday 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:06:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 5,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27821209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Antheas_Blackberry/pseuds/Antheas_Blackberry
Summary: 31, er 23 short pieces as part of the Ineffable Holiday 2020 set up bycaedmonfaith
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 39
Kudos: 27
Collections: Ineffable Holiday 2020





	1. Ice Skating/Snowman/Silver and gold

**Author's Note:**

> It's been ages since I've been able to write. I've decided to see if the Ineffable Holiday 2020 will get me back into the practice of writing at all.

_A cottage  
The South Downs_

It was a cold, clear, moonlight evening when Crowley brought his Angel out to the frozen (possibly demonically influenced) duck pond that was adjacent to their property in the South Downs. It was an enjoyable space in the warmer months, but Aziraphale had had little reason to venture this way since the weather had turned. 

Fairy lights were strung up, giving the pond a holiday feel. There was even a snowman. They were both bundled up appropriately for the cold; Aziraphale in a heavy cream, woollen coat and a gold and cream scarf, hat and coat. Crowley was in crimson and black (with a tiny bit of silver threaded in), right down to his thermal socks and the hand knitted scarf around his neck.

Grinning, Crowley tapped at his mobile for a moment until Freddie was singing about Christmas.

_Oh my love  
We've had our share of tears  
Oh my friends  
We've had our hopes and fears  
Oh my friends  
It's been a long hard year  
But now it's Christmas  
Yes, it's Christmas  
Thank God it's Christmas_

His grin was infectious and Aziraphale couldn’t help but return it, despite his bafflement as to why they were standing around in the frigid air.

“What are we doing here, my dear?”

Crowley took Aziraphale’s hand in his, and snapped with his free one. They were both now wearing ice skates in their preferred colour scheme.

“Ice skating, Angel!”

Aziraphale was momentarily taken aback. It had been a brief comment he had made weeks ago, but obviously Crowley had heard him, and took the time to set all this up. For him. It made him feel seen, loved and cherished.

Carefully, Crowley led them out onto the miraculously smooth ice. 

“You did say you wanted to go ice skating,” Crowley said, gently leading Aziraphale around the pond.

“Yes, but I meant on a rink in the city, with cocoa for afters.”

“Maybe next year, Angel.” Next year he would take Aziraphale to every outdoor ice rink he could find, he thought to himself as Freddie crooned about the state of the world. 

_Oh my love  
We live in troubled days  
Oh my friend  
We have the strangest ways  
All my friends  
On this one day of days  
Thank God it's Christmas  
Yes it's Christmas  
Thank God it's Christmas  
For  
One  
Day_

“Indeed,” Aziraphale whispered, pulling Crowley close. They slowly continued their way around the pond, intertwined in each other's arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lyrics are from Queen's 'Thank God It's Christmas' and it is also where the title of the fic comes from.
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/track/39MfSQsJ5vI5b7XnBZVtyG?si=W__Qj0J8SOanoaPDm-bYqQ


	2. Hot Cocoa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale enjoys hot cocoa. Crowley enjoys Aziraphale's enjoyment.

_Soho  
A book shop_

There were few things that Aziraphale enjoyed more than a lovely hot cocoa on a cold, winter’s eve. He was sitting in the backroom of the book shop, reading as per usual and thinking about how he could really do with such a beverage, when he heard the bell chime over the door of the shop. It could only be one person. “Crowley,” he said to himself with a smile.

“Hiya Aziraphale!” Crowley swaggered into the backroom carrying a tray of beverages, a white pastry bag precariously balanced on top.

“What’s all this, my dear?” Aziraphale asked, putting his book down.

Crowley put the treats down on the coffee table. “Well, I was in the area. . . thought I’d bring you a hot cocoa. Know how much you like one on a cold night.” He shivered and rubbed his hands together. December didn’t often have great weather for snake-like demons.

“Did you know, Crowley, I was just thinking the same? Aziraphale looked up at Crowley with a fond smile.

“At your service, Angel,” Crowley said, with a mock tip of an imaginary hat and a deep bow. He then flung himself onto the couch, pulling one of the many blankets strewn about (for his comfort) around him.

“Silly serpent,” Aziraphale teased. He got up from his armchair and went to join Crowley on the couch. He handed Crowley his coffee, and then found the cocoa; its whipped cream was still amazingly intact (it knew it had one job to do). He took a sip; absolute perfection. 

“Thank you, my dear,” Aziraphale said, with a happy wiggle for good measure. This wiggle had the pleasant side effect of moving Aziraphale that much closer to the still chilly Crowley. 

Crowley pressed up against Aziraphale, relishing in his soft warmth. He wondered what reward he’d get once his Angel found the mince pies in the bakery bag. For now, he’d sip his coffee and enjoy Aziraphale’s enjoyment of his cocoa.


	3. Candy Cane

_Soho  
A book shop_

It was mid-day on a Thursday when Crowley breezed into the bookshop, two takeaway cups in hand. Aziraphale wasn’t in the front room, so Crowley carried on towards the back room. As he passed the desk where his Angel infrequently rang up his customers, he saw that there was a jar full of candy canes amongst the general detritus.

Puzzled and intrigued, Crowley continued to seek out Aziraphale. As he reached the back room, Aziraphale came around the corner and the two nearly collided. 

“Crowley!” Aziraphale exclaimed, delighted. He was glad it was Crowley that had come through his door, rather than a customer, despite his moratorium on doing his best to keep them out of his shop. It was the holidays after all.

“Hey, Angel. “Tea?” Crowley handed over one of the cups he was holding.

“Oh, thank you my dear.” Aziraphale smiled as he took the cup from his demon, letting their fingers brush softly together, holding a promise of something even more tender later on.

Crowley blushed crimson and gulped a mouthful of his coffee in an attempt to cover it up. Aziraphale merely smiled smugly at him.

“What’s with the candy canes?” Crowley asked abruptly.

“I’m sorry?” Aziraphale looked genuinely confused.

“On your desk out front, Angel,”

“Oh yes! I bought them to give to the customers.”

“But you hate customers, and you hate having them especially at this time of year.”

Aziraphale sighed. “I know that is usually the case. But, I thought I would be nice and festive for a change. And I thought I would be a bit more willing to sell some of my less favourable stock for the holidays.” 

Crowley thought that Aziraphale sounded upset and now he felt guilty for bringing it up. He hated when Aziraphale looked sad; it reminded him of when they weren’t on their own side.

“It is. Festive that is,” Crowley muttered. 

Aziraphale brightened. “They have been quite a hit for those who have been in, as well as making a delightful addition to my nightly mug of cocoa.”

“Huh,” Crowley said. “I wonder what else they might make a _delightful addition_ to?” He raised an eyebrow over his sunglasses.

This time it was Aziraphale’s turn to blush.


	4. Snow Globe

_Somewhere in London_

Crowley had to go to four different custom craftsmen until he found one who was skilled enough for his commission. It was an idea he had had for some time, and now that he and Aziraphale were on their own side, it seemed like the perfect time.

He had provided a rough sketch of their meeting on the wall in Eden, complete with resplendent greenery, and missing one flaming sword. This craftsman had seen his vision and made it into reality.

A week before Christmas, Crowley picked up his custom made snow globe. It was absolutely perfect; the details exquisite- down to the scales on Crowley’s leg. Even their wings seemed to be in constant motion, as if being stirred by a gentle breeze. It was definitely worth the price tag, and he even threw in a little demonic miracle of his own as he was so impressed with the handiwork.

He couldn’t wait to give it to his Angel for Christmas.


	5. Shopping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, a demon is cold.

_Somewhere in England ___

__

____

Crowley was bundled up in a black wool peacoat, hat, scarf and gloves. His face was barely visible what with the sunglasses and the thick scarf. He was standing by the door of Aziraphale’s bookshop, impatiently waiting for his Angel.

When Aziraphale finally emerged, he burst out laughing at the sight of Crowley waiting at the door. “What on earth are you wearing, my dear?”

“S’cold out, Angel. And I know you. You said just _one Christmas market,_ but the next thing you know we’ll be at another and another, and then after the shopping we’ll be drinking mulled wine at some stall three hours later, and I’ll be absolutely frozen. So, I’ve come prepared this year.”

“Oh my dear, dear boy.” Aziraphale gently kissed Crowley’s cheek. “I am sorry, I do get carried away, don’t I? Well, not to worry, I’ll keep you warm on our shopping venture this year.”

As they left the shop, Aziraphale took Crowley’s gloved hand in his. The demon never felt so warm (and so loved) shopping in his very long, long life.


	6. Naughty or Nice/Santa

_Soho  
A book shop_

Aziraphale loved the Christmas season, even more now that he wasn’t tethered to heaven. He could do exactly what he wanted, when he wanted, and that included blessings to those less fortunate. That being said, he wasn’t an idiot, and kept them to small ones that wouldn’t cause much notice Upstairs. Instead, he often spent his mornings (while Crowley was still sleeping) providing warm clothing and cocoa to rough sleepers, along with a helping hand to shelters and other places that could help and support those in such dire need. 

He had returned to the book shop after one such morning, with cocoa for himself and a triple espresso for Crowley. After he let himself in and divested himself of his winter outerwear, he headed into the backroom, where he was surprised to see Crowley waiting for him.

Aziraphale was surprised, because Crowley was sprawled out in his favourite armchair, wearing nothing but a Santa hat. His golden eyes were predatory, and a bit mischievous. 

“Hey Angel,” Crowley drawled. “Have you been naughty or nice this year?” He asked with a wink and a very suggestive leer.


	7. Christmas Crackers

_Somewhere in England_

Aziraphale and Crowley were perusing Christmas decorations and ephemera. Conveniently (or perhaps miraculously), the crowds and masses were avoiding the pair. 

Aziraphale stopped to admire the packaging on a package of Christmas crackers, when Crowley sidled up beside him. “Got a commendation for those, you know.”

“Did you really?” Azirapahle asked. He honestly wasn’t surprised.

“Take these,” Crowley said, gesturing to the high-end crackers to his left. “Filled with booze, high end cosmetics and perfume. I got an additional commendation for the luxury ones.”

Aziraphale reached for one that was filled with top shelf whiskey. “Oh, this is very nice.”

Crowley scowled. “It’s not meant to be nice, Angel! It’s rampant consumerism, along with wasteful packaging, rubbish hats, and terrible jokes. Perfectly demonic!”

“Yes, terribly demonic my dear.” Aziraphale patted Crowley on the shoulder.

Crowley rolled his eyes and wandered away, while Aziraphale continued slowly down the aisle. The angel stopped short at a display of ‘Make your own’ Christmas crackers. “Ah, yes, that’s just the ticket,” he said softly to himself. He’d have to come back without Crowley, but now he had the perfect idea for presenting the gift he had for his demon.


	8. Bell Ringing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is Aziraphale listening to bebop?

_Soho  
A bookshop_

_Ding, dong, ding, dong  
Christmas bells are ringing_

Aziraphale hummed along with Nat King Cole; the record crackling on the ancient gramophone as he adjusted the garland on the Christmas tree. He stepped back a moment to look and was pleased to see that it was even.

He took another step back, and found himself enfolded into Crowley’s arms. “Oh, hello my dear,” he said with a smile.

Crowley placed a kiss amongst the fluffy curls of Aziraphale’s soft, blonde hair. “Is that bebop you’re listening to, Angel?” Crowley teased, kissing him behind the ear this time.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Crowley,” Aziraphale said, turning in order to give his demon a proper kiss. “Christmas carols aren’t bebop.”

Any protests attempted by Crowley were lost in the continued kisses as they made their way towards the back room couch. Nat King Cole continued to croon about chestnuts roasting on an open fire, as an angel and demon kept each other warm throughout the evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song in question: https://www.lyrics.com/lyric/13399760/Nat+King+Cole/Caroling+Caroling+%28Christmas+Bells+Are+Ringing%29


	9. Making Cookies

_A cottage  
The South Downs_

It was a cold December day in the South Downs. Crowley spent most of the day wearing one of Aziraphale’s jumpers, wrapped in several blankets, camped out on the couch. He alternated scrolling on his phone and scrolling through all of the streaming services known to man (and demon). 

Aziraphale watched as Crowley grew more and more bored throughout the afternoon. He couldn’t seem to settle on anything. Finally, he got tired of the frustrated huffs and eyerolls coming from his demon and he walked over to him and extended his hand. 

“Come along, my dear.”

“Huh, whuh?” Crowley said eloquently.

“We’re going to make cookies,” Azirapahle said cheerily.

Crowley rolled his eyes again, but allowed himself to be pulled out from under his blanket fort and into the kitchen. It was already toasty and warm; Aziraphale had pre-heated the oven as a precautionary measure. The demon felt himself uncurl and relax in the heat of the kitchen. He leaned his hip against the counter closest to the oven.

“What are we making, Angel?”

Grinning broadly (and with a delightful wiggle), Aziraphale pulled two cookie cutters out of what seemed like thin air, as if he were performing one of his magic tricks. “Doves and snakes!”

Crowley couldn’t help but laugh. He shook his head fondly and began to pull ingredients out of the cupboards. Anything to keep that smile on Aziraphale’s face.


	10. Hanukkah

_Soho  
A bookshop_

Crowley spun the dreidel over and over again, enjoying the rattle of the wooden toy against the coffee table. Taking another sip of wine, he set the dreidel up to spin again. This time he overestimated the amount of force, and the dreidel flew off the table and clattered onto the floor.

Aziraphale, tea towel in hand, wandered into the backroom. “What on earth was that noise, Crowley?”

Crowley was kneeling on the floor, searching for where the dreidel landed. “Dreidel, dreidel, dreidel. I made it out of clay,” Crowley sang, off key and just a bit tipsy.

Aziraphale grinned and continued the song. “And when it’s dry and ready, Then dreidel I shall play!”

“D’you wanna play, Angel?” The demon waggled his eyebrows.

“Foul fiend,” Aziraphale teased. “But. . . perhaps after dinner. Speaking of which, the oil should be hot enough by now. Do you want to help?”

“Latkes?” Crowley asked.

“Latkes.” Aziraphale smiled and held out his hand towards Crowley.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Dreidel Song- https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/I_Have_a_Little_Dreidel


	11. Candles

_Soho  
A book shop_

Crowley had fallen asleep on the couch in the book shop’s backroom. This was nothing out of the ordinary on a cold, winter afternoon. 

What _was_ out of the ordinary were all the candles that were illuminating the very same backroom when Crowley woke up. Groggy from his nap, he was confused and immediately thought he was reliving the worst moment of his life again.

“Angel!” Crowley shouted, struggling to his feet. Tangled up in several blankets, he tumbled to the floor.

“Crowley?” Aziraphale hurried in from the book shop, several novels in hand.

“Aziraphale! You’re here!”

Aziraphale put the books down on the couch and knelt beside Crowley. “Are you ok, my dear?”

Crowley flung his arms around his angel and buried his face in the familiar, soft waistcoat. He breathed in deeply, letting himself be enveloped in Aziraphale’s comforting scent. Trembling, he took his refuge in the warmth.

Aziraphale ran his fingers through Crowley’s crimson locks, something out the naptime tangles. “Did you have a nightmare, darling?”

Crowley shook his head. “The candles,” he mumbled into the waistcoat.

Aziraphale stiffened. “Oh, my dear. I didn’t think.” With a snap of his fingers, all of the candles were extinguished. “I am so sorry, Crowley.”

Crowley remained in the comforting arms of his angel until he finished shaking.


	12. Ugly sweater

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley can't believe what his angel is wearing.

_A cottage  
The South Downs_

It was the Saturday before Christmas. Aziraphale and Crowley, who had been spending the holiday season in the South Downs, had made plans to spend the day in London.

Crowley was ready to go, impatiently waiting at the door. He was about to call out for his angel, when the angel in question appeared, in what was quite honestly the most hideous Christmas the jumper Crowley had ever seen. He pushed his sunglasses up onto his head and stared.

“Angel, what the heaven are you wearing?”

Aziraphale, wearing a jumper which featured cats wearing Santa hats, merely grinned. “This? It was a gift from Adam and the Them.”

“Just because you get a gift, doesn’t mean you need to wear it,” Crowley said. “You should have burned it,” he mumbled in addition.

“Now, now my dear. It’s very festive. And comfortable,” Aziraphale stated as he headed towards the door.

Crowley rolled his eyes. “Oh for someone’s sake. At least put your coat on!”

Aziraphale laughed, his cerulean eyes sparkling with mirth as he grabbed his coat and headed out towards the Bentley.


	13. Nativity

Crowley was mindlessly scrolling on his phone while Aziraphale poured their tea. It was late morning, and the pair were getting a late start. It had been raining and Crowley had been reluctant to leave their bed, and his angel was amenable for a bit more cuddling.

“Hey, Angel? Did you hear about this?” Crowley waved his phone in Aziraphale’s general direction.

“Did I hear about what, my dear?”

“A baby Jesus has been stolen from a nativity for a third time in Cardiff.”  
“That’s awful Crowley! Who would do such a thing?” Aziraphale set their tea on the table before sitting down beside the demon.

Crowley scrolled for a moment, his brow furrowed. He was definitely one for harmless pranks, but three times seemed a bit much, even for someone as mischievous as he was.

“Apparently, it was stolen and returned last year, only to be stolen again. They got a new one this year, but,” Crowley read from the webpage.

“It was taken again,” Aziraphale finished, frowning. 

“I’m all for creating a bit of havoc, but this is just downright mean.” 

“It most certainly is,” Aziraphale paused a moment. “I do hope the culprit is caught before Christmas.”

Crowley murmured his agreement and picked up his tea. He wondered if there was a way to locate the culprit and return before Aziraphale noticed. There probably wasn’t, but sometimes just plotting a bit of mischief and havoc was enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> True story. https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-wales-55271478


	14. Fairy Lights

Crowley watched as Aziraphale continued to make additions to the decorations around the book shop. He had added festive greenery around the railing of the spiral staircase. But now the angel in question was frowning at the staircase, wondering what was missing. 

“Problem, Angel?” Crowley asked.

“I’m not sure. There seems to be something missing.” Aziraphale frowned.

Crowley moved from where he had been perched and came to stand beside Aziraphale. “How about this?” Crowley snapped his fingers and the garland was adorned with soft, white fairy lights that twinkled brilliantly.

“Oh Crowley, it’s perfect!” Aziraphale beamed at Crowley, and gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek. Crowley tried not to bask in the love his angel was radiating, but soon he was smiling too.


	15. Mistletoe

Aziraphale was quietly reading in his armchair, glasses perched on his nose. Crowley couldn’t help the terribly non-demonic thought as to how adorable his angel looked sitting there reading, lost in whatever world was crafted in front of him.

After a few moments, Crowley got bored of observing Aziraphale from afar. He slithered up to his angel, and wrapped his arms around his shoulders. 

“Hey Angel,” Crowley murmured into Aziraphale’s neck.  
“Silly serpent,” Aziraphale chided, teasingly. He patted Crowley’s hand fondly. 

“Are you going to keep reading?” Crowley nuzzled behind Aziraphale’s ear, trying to be as much of a distraction as possible.

“Oh, I don’t know, my dear. Do you have something else in mind?”

Crowley snapped his fingers and instantly a sprig of mistletoe was hanging above them. His eyes, free from their sunglasses, were golden and filled with love (and well, a bit of mischief).

Aziraphale put his book down, carefully marking his place. He turned and pulled Crowley into his lap, their lips gently meeting. The kiss began to become increasingly passionate, and Crowley felt he was rewarded for a temptation well done.


	16. Tree trimming

Early December, and Aziraphale has obtained a very large tree for the bookshop. It takes up a fair bit of room and the smell of fir permeates the shop floor. 

Crowley watched as Aziraphale sorted through boxes of ornaments he collected through the centuries, although most of what he has adorned the tree with was fairly recent (if recent covered the past two hundred years).

The demon doesn’t move from his place on the sofa, until it was clearly apparent that Aziraphale was not going to be able to reach the top of the tree without a miracle. He slowly sauntered over, uncurling from where he had laid for hours. 

“Let me help, Angel,” he said softly. The slight height difference allowed Crowley to just be able to place the star at the very top.

“Thank you, my dear,” Aziraphale said, placing a soft kiss on his partner’s cheek.

“Ngk,” Crowley croaked, still not used to the delightful closeness the pair now finally had.


	17. Ornament

(This continues from #16)

Aziraphale and Crowley stood back and looked at the now fully trimmed tree. Aziraphale seemed pleased, but Crowley felt something was missing.

“Ah,” he said. “I have something for you, Angel. Just be a moment.” He turned and fled up the stairs to the flat that they were now currently sharing.

A moment later, the demon returned, a small box in his hands. He gently handed it to Aziraphale.

“Oh, darling, you do spoil me.” The angel’s eyes were sparkling with delight as he carefully opened the box, and pushed the tissue paper aside.

Inside, was a small ornate ornament; a very familiar black snake, encircling a very red apple. It was terribly intricate all the way down to the glossy scales on the snake.

“Oh, Crowley,” Aziraphale gasped. “It’s beautiful.”


	18. Carol singers/champagne

Crowley was unsure as to how much wine and champagne he must have drunk to be convinced by Aziraphale that they should watch some festive movies. _(Although the angel in question did call them moving pictures, causing Crowley fondly roll his eyes as he damn well knew that Aziraphale knew what they were called.)_

Another two bottles of wine and somehow, they pair were now watching Love, Actually _(which Crowley lied about influencing to get a commendation, but that was neither here nor there)._

“It’s Carol Singers,” Kiera Knightley’s character shouts up to her husband.

Crowley snorted from where he was draped across Aziraphale’s lap. “S’not bloody likely,” he mumbled into Aziraphale’s thigh.

“Pardon?” Aziraphale paused the film with a wave of his hand.

“Angel, how did he believe her? There haven’t been carol singers since the, what, 18th century?” _(Crowley favoured a bit of hyperbole, especially when he had been drinking.)_

“It’s a film, darling, not reality,” Aziraphale said with a fairly tipsy smile, and gently patted Crowley’s arm. 

Crowley sat up quickly and nearly drunkenly tumbled to the floor. He swayed wildly while he regained his equilibrium. “But he just believes her and goes on watching telly like nothing’s happening! It doesn’t even _sound_ like carol singers!”

Aziraphale patiently waited for Crowley to finish his rant.

“And not to mention, it’s creepy as fuck,” Crowley added.

“Well, that I will concede,” Aziraphale said. “Are we going to finish watching, or are you going to carry on?”

Crowley picked up his wine glass and drank the remainder down. “I think I’m going to need another bottle.”

“Good idea.” Aziraphale made a motion to get to his feet, but Crowley waved him back down. 

“M’already half up. I’ll go.”

“Oh thank you, my dear. And perhaps some more mince pies?” Aziraphale smiled brightly up at his demon.

Crowley nodded. “But we’re watching Die Hard next,” he declared as he headed toward the wine stash.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know people either really love or really hate or love to hate Love, Actually. I'm fairly neutral on it now if for no other reason it always makes me feel like I am going to be forever!alone more than my normal brain function tells me. 🤣


	19. Holiday films

(Continued from #18)

While John McClane ran around with a machine gun, working to defeat Hans Gruber and his band of not so merry men, Aziraphale still had a puzzled look on his face.

“How exactly is this a Christmas film, Crowley?” The angel grumbled into his wine glass. He was a bit put off by the violence in the film, to be honest. Not that he hadn’t seen worse, of course. And it _was_ fiction.

Crowley, rather engrossed in the film muttered, “Because it’s not Christmas until Hans Gruber falls off Nakatomi Plaza.”

“What was that, dear?”

“Nothing, spoilers,” Crowley added, sipping his wine.

Aziraphale looked more confused. Crowley sighed and paused the film.

“It’s a Christmas film because it takes place over Christmas, yeah? Trees and decorations everywhere, giant teddy bear in the car ready to be given as a gift. But mostly, it’s about good triumphing over evil, surely that’s a message you can get behind, Angel.”

Shocked by Crowley’s proclamation, Aziraphale felt a bit ashamed about his grumblings. He resolved to keep his thoughts to himself for the remainder of the film. “You’re right, my dear,” Aziraphale said and waved the film back on.

_45 minutes later . . . ._

Aziraphale dabbed at his eyes with a tissue, while Crowley rolled his eyes fondly at his angel.

“I do see what you mean now, my dear,” Aziraphale sniffed. “It wasn’t just about good triumphing over evil; it was about love.”

Crowley attempted to scoff, but paused halfway. Aziraphale was right, not just about the film, but their entire evening together. His angel had humoured his movie night suggestion and even seemed to enjoy it. It was about love.

“Whatever you say, Angel,” Crowley murmured, trying to downplay his feelings. 

Aziraphale grinned and pulled Crowley close. “Merry Christmas, my darling.”

Face pressed into Aziraphale’s soft neck, the demon breathed in his comforting scent. “Merry Christmas, dove.”


	20. Christmas list

_Some time before the end of the world  
A flat in Mayfair _

Crowley stared at the piece of paper in front of him. The remnants of other sheets, now in crumpled balls lay discarded all over the table and the floor. He sprawled out in his throne, pensive. 

For some reason he had got it into his head that he needed to write a Christmas list. He had tried and failed several times to come up with anything that made sense. Why should he, a demon, need to write a list about what he wanted? He had everything he ever wanted, and if he decided that there was something else he couldn’t do without, all he had to do was snap his fingers.

He sighed heavily. He knew that was a lie. There was only one thing he _wanted, desired, craved_ ; something that he believed he could never have.

He picked up his pen once more, and his fingers found him writing the same word, the same name for the thousandth time.

_Aziraphale_


	21. Solstice/Yule/fireplace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually had to google traditional things to do on the solstice, because I hadn't the faintest idea!

_Behind the garden of a cottage  
The South Downs_

Crowley was still reluctant to have fire of any kind near their residence; he wouldn't even light a fire in the fireplace. So, when Aziraphale decided that he wanted to burn a Yule log in celebration of the solstice, he cleared a space beyond their garden and far enough from their cottage, where he felt any fire would be safe.

It was cold and clear (miraculously) when they set out past the garden with the Yule log. Once it was lit, they sat in companionable silence, listening to the wood crackle and pop; sparks of light casting out into the darkness.

Crowley shivered, and moved closer to the warmth of his Angel. Aziraphale put his arm around Crowley, holding him close. “We could have done this inside, you know. I wouldn’t let anything else burn,” he murmured softly.

Crowley tilted his head up so he could see Aziraphale. His golden eyes mirrored the hues of the fire. “I know, Angel. Just not ready yet.”

“I know, my dear. I just don’t want you to catch a chill.”

“Won’t,” Crowley mumbled into Aziraphale’s scarf, where he had now burrowed his face into. “You’ll keep me warm.”

“That I will, my love.” Aziraphale kissed his demon on the top of his head and watched the log burn until there were nothing left but embers.


	22. Gift exchange/Christmas eve

_A flat  
Mayfair_

Gift exchanging wasn’t a new phenomenon for either angel or demon. They had both given each other many gifts over the centuries. Yet, for some reason, this year, Crowley was overly anxious about the gift he had for his angel. He hoped it would be well received.

While Aziraphale was fussing at the shop, Crowley was sitting in his flat staring at the box containing the snow globe. He wrapped it with care, fussing with the ribbons once it was firmly gift wrapped.

He would give it to his angel on Christmas eve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't abandoned finishing this! I've just found it terribly hard to write as of late.


	23. Scarf

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the prompt was mittens/gloves/scarves but I ended up with a hat and scarf oops!

_Soho  
A book shop_

Shortly after Christmas, the weather turned very cold. Crowley spent most of his days snuggled up on the book shop’s couch, cozied up under several blankets. On occasion, he managed to look so cold and miserable that Aziraphale stopped his stocktaking or whatever other task he was involved with to snuggle up next to Crowley, offering his angelic warmth.

After a couple of days of this, Aziraphale had a craving for freshly baked croissants and cajoled _he bribed him, let’s be real)_ Crowley to accompany him. Grumbling about the cold, Crowley put his coat on, while his angel hurried off to fetch something. He returned with a bundle of black and crimson yarn. 

“Here, my dear. This will keep you warm.” Aziraphale wrapped the scarf around Crowley’s neck and then carefully placed the hat on his head. He straightened the scarf and grinned at his demon.

“Did you make these, Angel?” Crowley gently fingered the scarf. It and the hat were both quite warm and he could tell that he had infused the garments with a warming miracle. 

Blushing, Aziraphale nodded. 

“Thank you, dove.” Crowley kissed him tenderly, hoping to convey his appreciation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With the exception of fruitcake, I had already incorporated the prompts in the other chapters already. So, I've made the decision to end it here, considering I've been quite stuck in writing at the moment. Thank you to everyone who has read, commented and gave kudos. I hope 2021 is a better year for us all. ❤️


End file.
